Nefarious Depravity
by kas90
Summary: Edward, a low-scale criminal, will be forced into something he isn't quite ready for. At the young age of 22, his entire life is about to turn upside down. Badassward, short, daily updates
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This fic is getting me back into writing. I'm aiming for short, daily updates. Because the updates are short and quick, I'm not using a beta or a prereader. I hope that doesn't deter you. Even though it won't be perfect, I promise it won't be littered with errors. I'm an English major who is obsessed with grammar. **

**This story will be the foundation for the OF story I'm working on for my creative writing class, so your constructive comments will help me greatly. **

**Thanks to the supporters who have followed over from Strawberry Wine. **

**This is my disclaimer that fits for the entire fic (I won't post it every chapter): I don't own Twilight. This fic will be nothing like Twilight. I don't own Twilight, and I won't make any money from this story, hopefully just an A in my class. **

**Enjoy. **

Edward's hands had the slightest shake to them as he exerted more pressure than necessary to open the glass door, hearing the chime of the bells ring above his head as he made his rapid exit. The sun was hidden behind the blessing of the clouds, making the normal excruciating temperatures of southern Florida in mid-June just bearable. His feet, lighter today than most others, sprung off of the dirt scattered concrete, his speed his friend as he dove from casual passerbys.

The blood in his veins flowed faster, the result of his rapidly beating heart. His vision was heightened by the adrenaline, allowing him to keep his swift pace around the corners of the brick buildings, up the stairs, and through the alley ways of the streets he had become all too familiar with. To Edward, the rush was what made it worth it-the feel of the steel against his palm, the trigger teasing his finger. The look in the man's eyes as he stole every dollar he kept in the cash register. Combined, it gave him the high he needed; it made the air that went into his lungs worth breathing. It wasn't just a hobby anymore—it was a lifestyle.

His lungs began to burn, his chest feeling tight, as Edward finished his sixth block, hiding behind a dumpster just long enough to check for his chasers. Not seeing another soul in the beaten alley, he leaned against the wall of worn bricks. His head hit the rusty brown hardness as if it were a feather filled pillow, happy with anything to take a break against. Shutting his eyes for these few moments, he tried to calm his raging heart, as one-by-one he relaxed each muscle in his body. The normal green eyes were blocked by his lids, making his vision almost black since the sun wasn't present for today's activities.

Edward was only three days shy of his twenty-second birthday, but he had seen more than most who lay on their death bed at eighty. The few people in his life were used to the hard look and lines of his face, the jade of piercing stare. His hair was just barely long enough to be pulled back by an elastic band, which he kept on his right, tattooed wrist whenever he wasn't "working." Without the black band, his dark hair stood in every which direction, the thick strands falling like silk around his once beautiful face in chaos.

Popping his eyes open, he knew he needed to keep going. He needed to move. He needed to hide. Riley's apartment was up the next block, and he knew the back door would be unlocked for his arrival. The cash was buried in the deep holes of his jean pockets. He could count it later. It was time to go.

Slipping off his gray hoodie that he had bought at the K-Mart on 72nd street just an hour before, he tossed the six dollar clearance item into the dumpster, making sure that he couldn't be identified from it. He also pulled the elastic band from his hair, running the mess through his fingers to further disguise his appearance from the cops that would surely be looking for him.

Most men in their twenties wore suits to work, carried briefcases. But growing up in the wrong end of the deteriorating city forced Edward into a lifestyle where his work attire was his trusted white Nikes, dark jeans with pockets large enough to fit at least a grand, and t-shirts that showed off what all the running had done to his slender body. It wasn't the most glorifying job in the world, but as Edward undid the belt of his jeans, sliding them down his legs so he was left in his blue basketball shorts, and hung the jeans over his shoulders in a way the money was tucked in safe, he knew this job was better than any fast food place or janitor shift.

Satisfied in his new appearance, he started walking, a little faster than a casual stroll but slow enough as to not give him away, and made his way out of the shaded cover of the buildings and into the populated Florida sidewalks.

**Remember, short, daily updates. And if your reviews just happen to encourage me to write more, I might even update twice a day. **

**Thanks for reading.**

**xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Blown away by the number of reviews for the first chapter! I forgot how addicting they were and how much they inspired me to write. Thank you. xx**

**Chapter 2: **

"What's up, man," Edward said, opening the sliding glass frame of Riley's balcony door. He stepped into the smoky apartment and sat down on the green, half-broken recliner to the left of the couch, which his childhood buddy was sprawled upon.

"Wanna light?" Riley asked, lifting his arm that held the pack of Camels.

Riley's clothes smelled like the alcohol he had drank the night before, combined with the aroma of cigarette smoke and the girl from across the hall. He looked just about as bad as he smelled. His blond hair hung low in his eyes and it was clear it had been a few days since he had taken a razor to his face.

Edward didn't bother with a verbal response. He folded the jeans down on the spotted-white carpet at his feet before he slipped a lone cig from the box, using the orange lighter on the counter to light his fix. He took a hit and leaned back in the chair.

"What the fuck are you watching, dude?" Edward questioned, blowing the smoke from his lips as he took in the contents of the TV.

"Daytime television. You get what you can."

"Are they even speaking English?" Edward questioned, cocking his head to the side as if it would fix the language barrier.

"Spanish Network."

Edward let a small semblance of a laugh escape him. "You need a fucking job."

"Whatever, dude," Riley responded. "I got a job. Unconventional it might be, but it puts food on my table, beer in my fridge, and Spanish women in my living room."

"I meant a job that got you out of the apartment and off your dead ass."

"I'm not a runner, man. That's your thing. You know what I prefer."

He was right. Edward was a runner. That was what his title was called on the streets—a runner was someone who took on site. Riley was a dealer, a harder position to move into, but his brother was one of the best in the area. Family went far in this town. Edward just didn't happen to have any.

"You gonna pay up soon? You know Pic came back in here again lookin' for ya."

"Yeah? You tell him where I was?" Edward didn't show his panic at the mention of Pic's name or at the fact that this was the second time this week that someone had been by.

"Just said you were out doing business. I suggest you take care of that shark soon. We don't need nobody's head poking around. You know what the rules are."

Edward was well aware of the rules. They were simple. Take what you will, you pay what you owe, and if the cops were called, you might as well start writing your own obituary. These rules had been in place since Edward was fifteen and started working for Riley's brother, Marcus.

Edward also knew of the dangers he was getting into.

"I'll take care of it." The tone in his deep voice was sharp enough to end any conversation, let alone put chills on the arms of those within ear shot.

Riley was unaffected by the sting of his words, however, as he rolled his eyes in frustration. "Then fucking do it, Edward. I'm tired of these assholes banging on my door."

Childhood friend or not, Edward's tolerance for just about anything was as thin as the paper Riley used to roll a joint. Just at the derogatory connotations in Riley's statement made the skin on Edward's arm begin to burn. His muscles contracted as the fist that didn't hold the cigarette clenched. His neck reflexively bent to the side, the cracking sounds audible.

But Riley didn't let up. "And you better pray that Marc doesn't find out about this." He laughed, though there was no humor to be found in his words. "If you think Pic is scary, you haven't seen nothin'."

"What are you trying to say?" Edward sat up straight in the chair, his feet grounding to the floor.

Riley shifted his head and focused his blue eyes on the man to his left. "What I'm saying is," he spoke very slowly, "I don't want another goddamned usurer in here looking for his fucking money. I told you not to take that shit. I told you not to get involved with those assholes. Now, if you don't take care of it, your ass will be no longer protected."

"You gonna call up Marc, then? Is that it?" Edward questioned, red seeping behind his lids as the room turned crimson.

Riley paused before answering, choosing instead to light up. He took a deep breath of the cigarette, letting the nicotine absorb into his system. His tongue slipped out and ran across his chapped, bottom lip before finally responding.

"Get your shit together, Edward. I'm not your fucking mother."

Edward sprung to his feet, but just before he was about to do something he would later regret, the door to the apartment swung open, a furious brunette in heels and a short skirt stepping through.

**xx**

**Next update: tonight. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to those who review & rec. It's only been a day, but my goodness, y'all are fantastic. **

**xx**

**Chapter 3:**

Edward stared at the woman who barged through the doors and listened as the door slammed shut behind her, creating a loud echo in the small space. Out of instinct, he took a step back, far enough for him to be able to bend down and grab the gun that was secured in the jeans that still lay at his feet. He hadn't seen this woman before, and in the world he and Riley lived in, no one was to be trusted—female or not.

Riley simply glanced over his shoulder, behind the couch, to take in who was now in his apartment.

"And who the fuck are you?" he asked, slowly standing from the couch and crossing his arms over his chest.

The woman saw the gun in Edward's hand, though it was still down at his side and not pointed in her direction, and smiled at the gentlemen.

"Well, hi, boys," she said, her words a higher octave than Edward had expected.

To Edward's ears, she sounded too innocent to be in the outfit she was. He already didn't like her.

Her hair was long and draped over her shoulders, resting just below the curves of her breasts. The woman's face was slender and she looked weak, but her eyes were full of dominance and fire. Something about her made the hair on the back of Edward's neck stand on end, and he cocked the gun with his thumb, ghosting his pointer finger over the trigger.

"May I help you?" Edward spoke, his words deep and slow.

Her eyes flittered back to the gun before landing back on Edward's, and he knew in that moment that he had her. She was no longer in control.

"Why, yes," she answered, her voice strong, betraying the fear that rested on her face.

No one spoke for a moment. The air rested in a thick haze around them, showing the dust in the air from the sun rays coming in from the window, the clouds dispersing for the first time that day. The clock on the wall in the living room paced forward, the ticks and the tocks mocking each of their breaths. Edward was waiting for her to explain while the woman was waiting for his finger to leave the trigger.

She stood steady, her hands resting on her slender hips.

"Well?" Riley spoke up, breaking the staring battle that had begun between Edward and this intruder.

Her eyes moved to Riley's as an unfitting smile arose on her lips.

"You are Marcus' brother, correct?"

Again, something about her voice made Edward shiver. It didn't fit her. It was too high to be that menacing. The way she spoke it was as if pure evil was dripping from her mouth, out of her lungs and into the closed in vicinity.

"And what if I am?" Riley taunted. "You here to do something about that, princess?"

She took a step forward, the sounds of her heels being absorbed into the carpeting beneath her. She walked right up to Riley, and Edward noticed for the first time how long and tight her legs were.

"I have a little message for him, is all," she sang out. She was close enough to Riley that he and she were practically sharing the same breath. Her shoes made here tall enough to match his height, and since Riley had been standing pretty close to Edward to begin with, Edward could smell her from where he was.

She smelled like coffee and sugar, and part of him wanted to pull on her hair until she fell to her knees.

"What's your fucking name, sweetheart?" Riley asked, taking a drag of his lit cigarette, not looking like he was at all affected by the situation. He was at least courteous enough to blow the smoke to the side and not in the woman's face, but she didn't even react to the action.

"Tell your brother that Mr. Cullen wants what belongs to him. He's tired of playing his games. You know the rules, don't you, Riley?"

Taking another hit, Riley shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I know the rules. What's with the messaging service, though? If you haven't noticed, lady, I'm not Marcus."

The woman's face didn't change. She simply took the cigarette that rested between Riley's fingers and brought it to her own lips. She breathed in deeply, and even shut her eyes for a few seconds before opening them and blowing the smoke in Edward's direction.

"Didn't you know, boys?" she began, butting out the cig in the ashtray on the side table next to the couch. "It's a family business, and debts will be paid in full."

She didn't say another word as she glanced back at Edward before she turned around and walked out of the apartment, closing the door just as hard as she did when she first walked in.

**Xx**

**Do I have your attention? **

**Update: tomorrow. **

**Review? I love them! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

"What the fuck, man!" Edward yelled as soon as the woman was out of the apartment.

Riley didn't seem to hear the words, though, as he scrambled around in the couch, looking for something. Edward, right as the brunette walked out, scurried to flick is cigarette in the astray, next to the one she had just discarded.

"When the hell were you going to tell me Marc was messing with the fucking Cullens?" Edward continued to yell to an unresponsive Riley. While Riley had his hands buried between the cushions, Edward put the gun down on the recliner for a second so he could pull his jeans back on, being reminded at how much money was in there by its weight.

"The Cullens don't just send messages!" Edward spoke his thoughts allowed, though Riley was well aware of the disguised death warrant the woman had just issued to Riley's family—Edward probably included—if Marcus didn't take care of whatever it was that had gotten him into this position.

Riley had moved into the kitchen and was pulling open every drawer before slamming it shut again. His eyes had a focused look that not even Edward's voice could deter.

Edward's heart was beating like it had when he ran out of the store just a little while before. His hand gripped at his hair, pulling at the stands until his scalp burned. His head began to swim with different scenarios, all mortifying. Edward wasn't that afraid to mess with men like Pic and even the Garcias uptown, but the Cullens—Edward didn't even know how to make contact with the Cullens, let alone fuck them over.

Riley's motions stopped for a second as he starred down at something in his hands that Edward couldn't make out.

"Time to go," he said, sticking the dark looking object in the back of his jeans.

Edward knew what that meant, and he didn't take any time to grab his glock and tuck it in his waistband.

The images of the beautiful, middle-aged Latina women were left streaming on the television as the boys raced out of the glass balcony door, not even bothering to shut it behind them.

**Xx**

**Next update: later today. **

**Sorry for the short update—next one will be longer. **

**Glad most of you liked the woman from last chapter. We will be seeing her again. **

**High energy from here on out. Reviews, no lie, make authors write faster. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for the lovely reviews! **

**Chapter 5**

Riley and Edward took the stairs to Marcus' third floor apartment two-at-a-time, and they didn't bother to knock before throwing open the door. Inside, all the lights were on, the TV was muted but still on, and every drawer was open and chair knocked over.

"Shit," Riley muttered under his breath, walking farther into the room and stepping over broken picture frames and displaced magazines. He headed straight towards the bedroom in the back, while Edward hovered near the door.

Sweat dripped from Edward's neck and down his back, and he took the black band from his wrist and tied up his hair, mentally preparing himself for what the rest of this day was going to bring him.

"Place is clean," Riley said as he joined Edward in the main room. "Marcus must have known—everything is gone." Picking up a vase that lay tipped over on the coffee table, he chucked it at the wall, the shards of glass dispersing into a hundred pieces. "Damnit! He didn't tell me it was this bad!"

"Wait," Edward said, taking a step forward. "You knew about this?" His cheeks reddened with heat, his anger overriding the straight fear he was feeling.

"Yeah, I fucking knew," Riley dismissed. "I know everything that happens, Edward." He glared at his friend as if Edward was the one who had betrayed him. "I know about every detail, every client, every goddamned dollar that passes through our operation. You think my job is to just sit on my ass and sell all day long?"

"Don't patronize me," Edward warned, his eyes narrowing as the skin on his face pulled tight.

"You're a runner. You don't get it. You don't get that the people within are a hundred times more dangerous than any cop or detective. There are no laws protecting you when things go down inside."

"I don't get it?" Edward yelled, picking up a fallen chair and slamming it against the wall. "I've been doing this just as long as you have. Now, where the hell is Marcus?"

Riley gripped at his blond hair and pushed it off is forehead, closing his eyes and groaning. "If he's not here," he said, his eyes opening and scanning the hardwood floors of his brother's living room.

Edward waited for the response, not enjoying how Riley had a slight shake to his hands that Edward could notice from where he was standing. The fact that Riley knew something and kept it from Edward…

"The compound," Riley said after a minute, his head shooting up and eyes meeting a jade stare.

Edward stood still while Riley started moving, heading towards the door they had come in from. He didn't get closer than arm's distance away from Edward before Edward grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

Edward was a runner. He was fast, but most importantly, he was strong.

"What the hell aren't you telling me, Riley?" he spat, his lips close to Riley's ear.

"We don't have time for this, Masen." He tried to squirm to escape Edward's grasp, but to no avail.

Speaking slow and clear, Edward demanded again. "Tell me. Now. What has Marcus done? Why is there a red dot on your head? Why the fuck," he pulled Riley away from the wall before slamming him back, "were you getting on my back about Pic earlier if you knew Marc was mixing business with the Cullens?"

"Edward, let go."

Edward took a deep breath as he looked into Riley's eyes. "Not until I get some answers."

"Now isn't the time or the place," he yelled, "for a catch up session! We got to hit the road, Mase. I'll explain everything on the way to the pound."

Edward pushed up on his neck to limit his air supply. "If this fucks me, Ri, I'm out. Done." He let go and took a step back.

Riley chuckled and shook his head as soon as he was free. "You want out? That's real cute, Edward. You talk to Johnny if you want to run free, but don't think relieving yourself of your duties is going to keep the marker off your back. The Cullens already know you're associated with Marcus, and you heard the woman, when the Cullens want one, they take all. Now get your emotional shit under control because losing your temper like that again won't keep you from the grave."

…

Less than half an hour later, the two men were descending the steps to the dark basement of the Compound—a bar owned by Riley's Uncle Johnny. The floor level of the bar was pretty bare, only a few scattered bodies drinking away the remainder of the summer afternoon. The basement—only open to employees—was a different story. At least a dozen people filled the open, smoky space.

The lights overhead weren't bright and flickered every minute or so. There weren't any windows to alert what possible time of day it was, but it meant that if one couldn't see out, one couldn't see in, either. This place was all about protection, which was why Marcus was seated in one of the wooden chairs near the center, surrounded by other cousins, employees, and even his wife, Vic.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Riley walked right up to Marc, yelling as he pointed at his face.

"Watch it, son," an older man said as he stepped out from the shadows.

Edward stayed tucked back, not wanting to get caught up in the mess. Marc was already to his feet, standing toe-to-toe with his younger brother.

Edward's patience was worn out. He didn't believe a word of Riley's bullshit about there being a mix up about districts and cliental. The woman that came to the apartment said that Marcus owed something—this was definitely not a simple user deal.

A man who was only a couple years older than Edward was standing to his left, his arms crossed as he leaned up against the cinderblock wall.

"Hey, Jay." Edward nudged the stoic man with his elbow.

Jay lifted his eyebrows in response. Everyone knew Jay wasn't one for many words. This man ran off of his intuition, his ability to read people and their emotions, which was how he managed to be another outsider of Riley's family but yet still respected as he was.

"How much you know of the Cullens?" If Edward was being brought into this shit storm, he wanted as much information as he could get.

"Plenty," was the man's answer, not even bothering to look at Edward.

"What about their messengers?"

A hint of a smile came to Jay's face. "There are three rules where the Cullens are concerned. Don't mess with their money, their guns, or their women."

Edward waited for more.

"That's it?"

Jay's deep blue eyes set on Edward. "You don't need to know much else."

"Do they have all their women send their death threats?" There was a glimmer of sarcasm in his statement, but there was a part of Edward that deeply wondered about the woman he encountered earlier. Everything about the Cullens baffled him. He would never send a woman into an apartment where the Cullens knew the men there were packing at least some form a heat.

"No. There's only one."

A man with wide-set shoulders and a tattoo that wrapped around his neck turned around and shot a glare at Edward and Jay, a warning to cut the conversation.

Jay chose to whisper instead. "They call her Boss."

"Boss? Why would they have the lead doing messaging?"

He looked at him and smiled. "She's not the lead. That would be Carlisle. He's the nastiest mother fucker I know, but he's fair. If you follow his rules, he leaves you alone. He doesn't take territories that aren't his or won over fairly. But Boss—I heard she wasn't even a blood Cullen."

Edward's eye brows knit together as he looked at Jay with confusion. "She told us it was a family business, and she's not even a Cullen?"

Jay shrugged, lifting up the sleeves of his shirt out of habit and scratching the skin of his right arm, the outline of his Whitlock tattoo beginning to fade. "There are some bonds that are thicker than blood, Edward. I thought you of all people would understand that."

"Yeah," Edward said, nodding his head and taking his eyes off the man's artistic scars from his past. "That I get."

"So what the hell are we going to do?" Riley's loud voice brought Edward back to the situation that was unfolding right before them.

"We have two options," the older man spoke, which Edward knew was Uncle Johnny, even in the casted light. "We either run or we fight."

"Fight the Cullens?" Edward muttered to himself.

"I'm not running," Marc answered.

"Me neither," another voice rose from the back.

"Count me in."

"It's time their reign ends," Marc continued. "I'm sick of the rules, of the limitations…"

There were other shouts and hollers within the group as every person stood.

Edward turned back and looked at Jay who had stayed on his spot against the wall, not saying anything.

"There's no way we can fight the Cullens."

Jay took a deep breath through his nose, uncrossed his arms, and stood up straight. "Well," he said looking at the vocal crowd, "it looks like we don't have a choice."

"Fuck this, man," Edward said, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Jay's hand shot out and grabbed onto his arm, his grip shooting pain all the way up. "That's not how this works."

"If you walk out of this room," Jay continued, "they will put a bullet in your head. What are you? You are a nobody. The cops will probably thank them when they find your body six months from now floating up the river. Don't be stupid, Masen."

There was something in Jay's eyes that made Edward go still, silent. He didn't dare move his green gaze from Jay's, and they stayed that way for a moment too long.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Riley asked as he came up to the men, their stares breaking and Jay's grip releasing.

"Nothing," Jay answered, looking at Riley before leaning back against the wall. "Just making sure Edward here was aware of the rules."

"Yeah," Edward agreed. "If anything, I'm clear on the rules."

Riley either ignored or was unaware of the sarcasm in Edward's statement. "Well, good," he said with a smile, "because it's time for war, boys."

…

**Next update: sometime tomorrow.**

**Sorry that was more like a chapter than a drabble. I'm getting used to being less wordy.**

**The drama continues…what oh what will Edward do? And Boss? I particularly happen to love her. **

**I think she's going to make a fun appearance soon. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Loving the reviews! Thank you thank you! **

**Remember, there's no beta on this, so all the mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading! **

**Chapter 6**

Edward really didn't know much about the Cullens other than the fact that they controlled most of the uptown territories. Though he was confused, Edward couldn't help but take notice of the deep rooted hate in the tone of the voices around him. The men in this basement have been nothing but loyal to Edward over the years, taking him in when his mom ran off, his dad not being in the picture since he was just a kid.

This was the only semblance of a family Edward had. And even though he knew fighting the Cullens would end in bloodshed, he couldn't not help out his brothers.

"Tonight, we celebrate," Riley announced, clapping down on Edward's shoulder. "Tomorrow, we plan."

…

It was just past ten-thirty when Edward walked into the bar that was down the street from Riley's apartment. Inside, it was dark, and the air was thick with presence of too many bodies. It smelled like sweat and aftershave, and Edward resisted the urge to gag as he passed by a heavier set man with a soaked through button up.

He had to carefully maneuver his way through the crowd to get to the table where his friends were already located.

"Hey," Edward greeted, nodding at his buddies before taking a seat.

The music in the bar was loud, and it was hard to make out the individual conversations taking place in his vicinity.

"You feeling alright, man?" Joey, another runner who was sitting to Edward's left, asked.

"Oh, uh," Edward reached across the table to the pitcher of beer, "yeah. Everything's good."

Joey smiled. "Alright, then."

That was the extent of exchange Edward participated in for the next forty-five minutes as the grown men and women in the large booth laughed and joked and talked and whispered and laughed some more. It gave him a headache.

"I'm gonna go light up," Edward excused himself from the table, his knees cracking as he stood. His height allowed him to see above most of the people still swarming throughout as he made his way to the exit sign in the back.

The summer night was muggy, and the air felt just as thick as it was inside. No one else was out in the alley of the bar, a dumpster on one side of the door, Edward leaning up against the other. He wanted it to be cold. He wanted to feel icy air across his overheated, uncovered arms. He wanted snow to fall and melt on his black ink that circled his wrist and traveled upwards.

He was tired of the Florida heat making it hard to breathe. He was sick of his clothes sticking to him even when he wasn't running.

Reaching into the back pocket of his dark jeans—these more fitted than the ones he wore when he was working—he grabbed his lighter and one of the cigs he put in there before he left. The cigarette was hanging from his red lips, his head was down, and he was flicking the back of the light for the flame when out of the corner of his eye he saw a man he didn't recognize step from around the corner.

Edward usually wouldn't have thought twice about it, but the man at least matched Edward's 6' 3" height and was looking at Edward as if he had found his prey and was ready to attack.

Needless to say, Edward took the cig from his lips and put it back into his pocket.

"Can I help you with something?" Edward asked, already annoyed.

The man didn't respond, just took a step forward, into the light that hung over the bar's door.

Being just a step or two in front of Edward, the man finally spoke, "I think it's about time you owe up."

_Fuck,_ Edward thought. In all the mess that happened today, he had completely overlooked the fact that Pic was still looking for him. However, he didn't once let this man in on his emotions, as Edward's face stayed still as stone.

He knew he needed to stall him so he could think of some kind of plan to get out of this.

"And you are?" he asked, gaining a few seconds.

"Listen, shit head, I'm not here to play your little games. You know what you owe Pic, so you either have the money now or I make sure you have a nice physical reminder. Now what is it going to be, punk? You have the four grand, or am I going to have to take four of those fingers?"

Edward's eyes dilated as the adrenaline began to pump through his system. As it was, he was cornered to the wall. If he wanted to run, it would have to be to the right, since the dumpster sat to his left, or he could maybe make it back through the door of the bar before this guy reached out and grabbed him.

Edward's fists clenched on instinct. He didn't want to run. He ran all damn day.

Could he fight this guy? In the few seconds he had before the man said anything else, Edward sized him up. He didn't know if he was packing, but even if it was just his hands, he knew this man would do damage.

Run or fight. Run or fight.

Without putting another thought into it, Edward used the space he had behind him to bring his arm back, and he connected his fist with the man's face as hard as he could.

He was done running.

…

**Next update: tomorrow **

**So I'm probably not going to come out and use the Twi names directly (besides Edward, Riley, and Carlisle). In an effort to make this a little different, I'm going to use a form of the name and put in their characteristics (and some of my own) to switch things up a bit. Hopefully they will all be clear. **

**Could you guys figure out who've we met so far? **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A deep rooted pain shot up through Edward's hand and up his wrist as soon as he hit his jaw. The man's head whipped to the side, but the rest of his body lunged forward, his left arm and grabbing Edward by the neck.

Now he was really pinned.

The bricks scratched against his back as he struggled against the grip that held him there. His air came in short gasps and his eyes shut on accord as soon as his head hit the wall.

"You little shit," the man spat as he held onto Edward, rage burning through his features.

Edward tried as hard as he could to get free, but his mind was begging to haze over from the lack of oxygen he was taking in. He was starting to lose feeling in the tips of his fingers as he fought to get the hands off from around his neck.

Edward pushed harder, struggled more, trying to put the weight of his shoulders into the man, but nothing happened. The guy's body pushed into Edward's hips so he couldn't even use his legs to break free.

Spots appeared in Edward's vision, black dots taking over his concentration.

He tried to get one breath in, then another, but the dots kept getting bigger before he could fill his lungs with air.

This was it. He was going to pass out, he knew it, and then what? Where would he wake up, or would he wake up at all? After what Pic wanted from him, it was a fair question.

Just before everything went completely dark for Edward, he heard a very clear cocking of a gun and saw panic flash across the eyes of the man that held him.

His legs gave out on him when his neck was released, and he collapsed to the black pavement, black heels that he saw just earlier that day becoming the center of his blurred focus.

…

**Next update: tomorrow.**

**So no one guessed who Jay was correctly – I'll make it more clear. And no, this man wasn't Emmett. **

**Boss? ;) We'll find out soon! **

**Thanks so much for the reviews! Please keep them coming! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Is there a problem, boys?"

Edward lay still on the ground as he listened to the voice of the woman, though he couldn't find it in him to respond.

The man working for Pic was still facing the wall, his hands raised in the air as the barrel of the gun rested on the back of his head.

"Listen, lady," the man began, and even Edward could hear the derogatory tone he was using to address her.

Within a few seconds, the woman lifted her leg and dug the bottom of her pointed shoe into the back of this man, causing him to fall forward, face first, into the brick wall. Edward scurried his legs out from beneath him and pulled himself up so he was standing, watching as the man who held Edward's life just seconds before was put on the other side of the spectrum.

"Try again," the woman demanded, her voice lower than it was when she had visited Riley's apartment earlier. It was even, sharp.

Her hair looked the same, a deep brown resting down her slender back, her arms defined as she held the weapon in her hands that didn't shake. Even in this light, Edward knew she was beautiful.

He still didn't like her.

"The punk owes up," the man against the wall tried to explain. "I'm here to collect."

"Hmm, that's funny," she said, her voice high again, "so am I."

The next moment, she twisted her wrist and pulled back before ramming the grip of the gun into the side of his head, and Edward watched with wide eyes as the man became a pool at her feet.

She looked over at Edward's incredulous stare and shrugged her shoulders. "What? He's not dead."

Before Edward could come up with a response, two larger shadows came walking up through the alley, and Edward automatically stood straighter in preparation. He wasn't sure if they were more of Pic's men or other Cullens, and he couldn't decide which one he was more afraid of.

The woman glanced over her shoulder at the sound, but she didn't seem to panic, so it was then that Edward got his answer. Unfortunately, he was hoping for the other.

"Good work, Boss," one of the two men that walked up said.

Edward got a good look at them as soon as they walked into the light, his heart stopping as he took in the one familiar face.

"Meh," she dismissed. "This one was easy."

Edward stood there still as he tried to process what was happening, his head trying to put the pieces together.

"We ready to get out of here?" the man Edward was staring at asked, his blue stare not leaving Edward's.

The woman spared one more glance at the man that still lay unconscious and smiled before heading back in the direction the two other men just came from. "I suppose."

Edward didn't move as he heard her take her few steps forward, and for a second there he even thought he was left to go free, that this was one big joke.

"Oh, and Jay-" The woman turned to look at the man Edward's eyes were still locked with.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Bring your little friend."

"Was already planning on it."

…

**Next update: today if I get inspired, tomorrow if not. **

**I am love love LOVING your reviews. So glad y'all are enjoying this little journey with me. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Jay kept a few steps ahead of Edward, and the other man that Edward had never seen before walked a few steps behind, sandwiching him as they walked out of the alley. Edward hoped that one of his friends would wonder where he was by now and come looking for him before it was too late.

He didn't have such luck.

A black Range Rover was parked across the street from the side of the bar, and the woman, who Edward refused to refer to as Boss—frankly because he didn't like the name, and he didn't like her, and he didn't like it that she referred to taking care of the man who almost killed him as easy—looked both ways before crossing the dark, desolate street. Her shoes were loud against the pavement, and Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatic effect they created.

Jay opened up the back door without saying a word and waited for Edward to crawl inside. The other man walked around to the other door, and once again Edward was sandwiched in the center. The woman went straight to the front passenger seat, and another man that Edward didn't know was driving. He had cropped dark hair and sunglasses that took up a good portion of his face.

If Edward wasn't certain that any which one of them would pull a gun on him, he would have made a smartass comment about wearing sunglasses in the dark. However, he liked his life and preferred to keep it as long as possible. Though, considering the situation he was currently in, he wasn't sure how long that would be.

Edward had a ton of questions, especially about Jay, but he knew now was not the time to ask.

The woman rummaged around for something at her feet while the car was still parked, and in the very limited darkness, Edward could make out the black cloth she eventually found.

Without a word, she passed it back to the men on either side of Edward. Strangely, though, she paused before turning back around in her seat and made eye contact with him. Edward gave her an inquiring look as she took an unsteady breath, but with her face going blank—all emotion removed—she turned back around.

Jay made work of tying his wrists together and the other covered his eyes. With his hands resting still on his lap, Edward intertwined his fingers and wasn't surprised at how clammy his palms were.

"Get comfortable," the woman said, her voice sounding farther away, her tone hard again.

Edward could hear the buckling of seat beats and the shifting gears of the engine.

"It's going to be a long ride."

…

**Next update: probably tonight. **

**Reviews are so very appreciated! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Update fail, I know. Sorry—real life (in the form of my 13month old niece) took over. **

**Chapter 10**

Edward sat idle in the dark, swaying with the left and right turns the vehicle took. There was no music to accompany the drowned out sounds of the car moving across the road beneath him. He vaguely could make out sighs from various directions, but besides the breathing of the two men next to him, mixed with his own intakes of air, Edward and company sat in silence.

He tried to count the seconds and minutes that they spent in the car, but after second 364, he lost count. Not to say that Edward didn't have the mental capacity to count higher than the number of days in a single year, quite the contrary. Edward knew the 364 seconds he spent in the moving car—not counting the time that they were stopped at the 7 stoplights or 12 stop signs-were only a very small amount of seconds compared to the 1,440 minutes that compiled any given day.

So needless to say, it wasn't the high number that caused Edward to lose count. It wasn't the beads of sweat dripping down his neck or the knots in his stomach that screwed up his calculation. It wasn't the smell of coffee and sugar that drifted to the back seat from the front, since he so adamantly refused to think about those scents in particular.

It was the clicking of his watch. The _tick, tick, tick, tick,_ again and again, without pause, without pity, that took Edward from his mental stopwatch.

But, alas, after the one too many ticks of his second hand, the car stopped and the engine was put into park.

They had arrived.

…

**Reviews are like crack. Thank you to my devoted reviewers. **

**Next update…well, hopefully you'll get two more tonight. **

**Thanks for your patience. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Edward's hands were still bound and eyes still covered as Jay took his left arm and pulled him from the car. As gracefully as he could manage, Edward tried to regain his balance on two feet, but he was sure to the people around him whose vision wasn't blocked off from a blindfold, he didn't pull off his desired poise.

The air wasn't any cooler here than it had been at the bar, and he could feel the sweat seep through his simple white t-shirt.

He waited for the sound of heels to come towards him.

They didn't.

"Let's go, Masen," Jay ordered, clapping a hand down on Edward's shoulder and pushing him forward.

He stumbled with his first step, but he was well enough on his feet to walk unimpaired from there on out. It took 54 steps, 4 turns, and 1 set of 13 stairs before he was told to stop.

"Where is Boss?" a new voice asked. Edward could tell it came from maybe a few feet ahead of him, but it was a voice he had never heard before—not like he had expected to recognize it.

"In the car, sir," the man that wasn't Jay answered.

In a very slow, demanding tone, 'sir' said, "Well go get her, Mac."

"There's no need, sir." Coffee and sugar filled the room, the shoes echoing on the hardwood floor.

"Ah, there she is."

Edward on instinct stood taller as the muscles in his back stiffened.

"I see you brought me a present," the new voice continued, now upbeat.

"Uh, yes, but I have to tell you, sir—"

"He is taller than I thought he was—"

"Yes, about that—"

Edward enjoyed the fear he heard in the woman's voice. It was shaky, something it wasn't whenever she had addressed Edward. The change was refreshing.

"About what?" The new voice of the man was now harsh. "Is this not Biers?"

"No, sir."

"What is going on?"

"This isn't Riley."

The air in the room pressed down on them as no one spoke for a moment. Edward couldn't even hear the breaths of the bodies surrounding him. He couldn't even hear the ticks of his watch.

"What have you done, Isabella?"

"Not to worry, sir," she spoke without missing a beat. "I brought you someone better."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Get him out of here." Edward went ahead and assumed that this was the voice of Carlisle Cullen. There wouldn't be anyone else that _Isabella_ would have this much fear around.

Jay tugged on his arm and with rough motions, Edward was pulled from the room.

He despised being in the dark, literally. The blindfold was tied too tightly around his head, and being unaware of his surroundings made him even more uneasy. He hated being this weak, this unprepared and disadvantaged.

"Come on, Jay," Edward huffed when he was pushed into a room.

"Don't say anything."

Edward could hear the direct warning in Jay's voice, but he couldn't figure out if it was Jay trying to help him or a threat. Edward really didn't know anything anymore. He knew that running sure as hell wasn't worth the mess he was in now. If he could go back, he would. He would give back every dollar, take back every woman, and refuse the vow of protection he gained when he made the deal with Marcus seven years ago.

He would go back, change it all, leave this life for a whole new one.

He wasn't kidding when he said to Riley earlier that he wanted out. He wanted to be clean, normal.

He wanted to live a life that was worth living.

But really, in that moment, he just wanted to stay alive.

Edward could make out someone yelling, but the voices were muffled and then completely gone as a door was slammed shut.

"Sit," someone commanded, and Edward was pushed back into a chair.

"Can we lose the blindfold, please?" he begged. "I already know what you look like, and I'm clearly not going to do anything." He held up his bound hands.

There were a few moments of silence before the band was lifted from his eyes. Edward had to blink multiple times as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights, and he took the following seconds to take in the room he was sitting in.

The walls were painted a cream color and old paintings of different people in large dresses and top hats hung above the bed to his left and the table right ahead of him. It was the largest bedroom Edward had ever been in, probably the size of Riley's apartment alone. A chandelier dangled above him, looking like it was going to fall and shatter into a thousand pieces, burying Edward with it, at any second.

The man that had accompanied Edward, Jay, and _Isabella—_Edward was personally glad he knew her name so he didn't have to call her Boss—since the meeting in the alley took the blindfold and used the material to tie Edward's bound wrists to the right wooden armrest of the chair. In the light, he could notice the dark curly hair and the brown eyes that matched. His arms looked about the size of Edward's thigh, and he felt the strength they contained as the material was tied so tight into his arms that his fingers were starting to numb from the lack of blood flowing to them.

"He's not trying to run, Mac, no need for the amputation," Jay remarked, coming over and retying the knot.

"It's your head then, not mine," Mac said, going down to sit upon the red comforter on the bed. "How long you think we have to wait?"

"It doesn't matter," Jay said. He stood by the window, looking out into the night.

"You think Boss is alright?"

"Mac, enough."

"You saw the look in Cullen's eyes. I've only seen that look twice and that was when—"

"Mac!" Jay's head whipped towards the bed. "I know," he said much more softly.

"We should go check—"

"And do what?"

Edward was surprised at the new, different set of knots that set in his stomach. Would they hurt her? Was Cullen cruel enough to harm one of his own? Why, though, was Edward so concerned about this woman? He didn't even like her….

"Jay—" Mac pleaded again after a minute.

"We can't help her."

Mac stood to his feet. "We have to."

Jay spared a glance at Edward, then to the door, before resting his gaze back out the window.

"No," he said finally, watching as Mac sat defeated on the bed. "We wait."

Edward pictured her long hair, the brown eyes that detailed her face, her hands that never seemed to shake. Without drawing attention to himself, he wiggled his wrists, testing the knot.

Checking that he wasn't being watched—Jay's eyes still out the window and Mac's head down, resting in his hands—Edward used his long fingers to pull and pinch and untie.

And then, with one final movement, the black tie fell to the floor.

He was free.

…

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